Author's Note- Edited.

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I woke Monday morning having had the best sleep since Christmas break ended and I began stressing over my finals. Then things had to get complicated more recently and it almost seemed like I hadn't slept at all.

However, since my revelation late Saturday morning- thanks to Liz and Simon's help of course- I found myself less and less conflicted and more sure that, if I were going to act on anything, it would be on what I felt most confident in as far as how I felt. The two of them had made a very valuable point that day that I had failed to really look into.

If I was unsure about something, then it more than likely meant that it wasn't in my best interest.

They were right and I knew that now. Regardless of whether that settled my mind on the matter and helped me sleep better, it didn't make my situation any easier. I still had to deal with the impossibility of what I wanted, and the seeming impossibility of what I had to do in reaction of my discovery.

I had to talk to Nate and I had to talk to Professor Souza.

Nate had texted me earlier that morning and informed me that he wouldn't be needing a ride to calculus, which, though I was a little puzzled by his announcement, it still eased my anxiety over having to confront him about my decision over the weekend. He had told me to think about it, what had happened, and I did. I knew my answer, and I knew exactly what I wanted to tell him. That didn't mean that I wanted to, though.

Nate was my best friend and I never, ever wanted anything to change that. However, if I expressed to Nate the exact opposite of what he wanted, would things be different? Would things become weird between us? Would we drift apart? I didn't want that. More than anything, I didn't want that. But, in truth, it would have been worse for me to lie to myself, lie to him, and choose to be with him when it was clear that I did not like him more than as my close friend.

I rather him know the truth and hate me, than to lead him on. So, regardless of whether I wanted to break this to him or not, I had to find the right time to do it.

As I drove to the math and sciences campus, I started thinking more about what I was going to do with Professor Souza. I was sure of how much I cared about him and, according to Simon- and even Liz's extremely best friend-like way of telling me that I had to be the most clueless person she has ever met- the feelings were mutual. However, no amount of either of them pestering me to make a move could hinder the fact that Professor Souza was my teacher.

He was my elder, superior and authority figure.

He was just off limits and, as much as I hated it that way, it was the way things were. What was I supposed to do? Confess my affections for the man, have him grudgingly admit his own, agree that the concept of us being more than a teacher and his student was unreasonable and improbable, then leave his class seeing as how the term would be over in less than a day and never look back?

I huffed at my over-dramatization and pulled into one of last few open parking spaces within the student parking lot. I was sure that once I told Professor Souza how I felt- because, regardless of what might happen, I was going to suck it up and spell things out for my math Professor just like I was going to do with my best friend- our relationship wouldn't shrivel into nothing and a distant memory.

I couldn't tell if I was in denial or in a false hope that, as the term ended, the situation would change.


It was funny how something I had been stressing about since my grades had started declining in calculus had become so insignificant the moment I turned it over to Professor Souza the previous Friday. Months ago, when I had first started this class, I never would have even began to fathom the fears I would face on the last day of term other than the impending final score of my worst subject. Crushing on the Professor of said subject? About to crush the feelings of my best friend?

Never would have crossed my mind.

Even as I took a seat at my regular desk and received a friendly grin from Nate, all I could think about was the painful zing that flashed through my chest at the idea of crushing that warm smile come the time. I knew in that moment that it had to be sooner than later. So, when he reminded me that he was going to come over to my dorm later this evening to pick through courses and finalize our classes for the beginning of the new term on Wednesday, I knew that that would be the point that I would have to let him down.

"That's fine," I agreed, voice as even as I could make it. "I think we have some other things we should talk about aside from classes, though."

Nate's eyes flashed, immediately glowing in a bright blue of anticipation. My heart seized.

"Sounds good to me."

For a second, I almost felt like I was going to throw up. Then a rough voice sounded, bringing the class to order and jumpstarting my heart back to life.

It almost seemed strange that, as used to the sound of his voice as I was, how much I possibly missed hearing it over the weekend, throwing my body and my reactions back into those early days of when I had admired Professor Souza from afar. How could I have possibly let my brain nearly convince myself that I needed Nate merely because he seemed like the right choice for me when, really, there was no way I could ever choose him over someone I felt so strongly for? The idea just seemed entirely asinine now.

"Good morning, class." Professor Souza said, volume a bit more pronounced as he addressed his lecture hall. He shuffled through his messenger bag as he continued.

"I'm sure you all had a relaxing weekend now that the finals are over. The Professors on the other hand were hard at work slaving over tests, crappy handwriting and the faint smell of fear absorbed by flimsy pieces of paper."

A light laughter filled the classroom and Professor Souza himself smirked as he pulled from the depths of his bag a manila folder that no doubt held our class' corrected finals. Once they were in his hand, Professor Souza grounded his messenger bag and faced the class, a serious expression taking over his features.

"On a more serious note, I'd like to say that the majority of you performed really well on this test. Some, however," Professor Souza started, eyes running over the mass of his students before, suddenly, they settled on mine.

"Some didn't perform very well at all."

Judging by how fast my heart jammed up into my throat and my stomach plummeted, I wouldn't be surprised if I needed medical attention once Professor Souza released my gaze.

Only, he didn't.

His eyes were locked on mine and held no mercy. The last time I had seen Professor Souza emanate a look remotely similar to the displeasured one he was giving me was when Professor Banks had stopped by for an unexpected visit before Christmas break. I felt myself shrink under his intense gaze as my mind reeled.

Did I fail the test? N-no. No way. I had been ready for it. There's no way.

I had been so sure, even as stressed and disordered as I had been that morning, that I had done just fine, if not better. However, the look Professor Souza was berating me with said otherwise. Had I really underestimated how much Nate's advance had jostled me? Or had it been more along the lines of me overestimating how much I had improved on my math skills?

Though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, after what felt like an eternity, Professor Souza finally looked away. I only barely noted as he continued to speak that there were a select few who would have to retake the test the following day and that once we received our finals, we were free to leave as he had nothing else planned for the final day of the term. I was far too consumed by the vast and depressing black hole I was quickly plunging into to absorb any of his words though.

I watched as Professor Souza made his way through the classroom, much like I had done the day he had passed out the midterm. Though, unlike back then, I wasn't fawning over his height, his large hands, his lean muscle, perfectly tousled hair, and his incredibly green eyes. My eyes were glued to the stack of papers in his hands, following each movement as he set tests face down on each student's desk, hearing the release of relieved exhales in his wake. The closer he got to my seat, the more often my heart skipped a beat.

Soon enough, he was handing Nate his final. I scarcely noticed Nate's expression break out into a wide, satisfied grin once he found his score before I glanced up at Professor Souza, once again greeted with that disappointed look. I swallowed audibly.

With a deflated sigh, Professor Souza set my test on my desk and moved on to the next student. I slowly counted to ten before I decided that I might as well get it over with. Rip it off like a band aid so to speak.

I flipped my test over.

Come see me after class.

-Professor Souza

I stared at the only seven words that occupied the page, written in Professor Souza's scribbled handwriting. It was so bad that Professor Souza didn't even return my test to me, nor did he sign the note with his signature initial.

I was so screwed.

When Professor Souza finished returning the rest of the tests, he informed us that he was available to answer any questions if anyone had any, otherwise we were free to go. The room erupted with a clatter of excited whoops and hollers mixed with a compilation of, 'What did you get?' 'Look at my score!' 'I totally aced it, what about you?'

Steadily, students started to filter out of the classroom where I remained rooted to my seat, eyes locked blankly on the piece of paper on my desk that stared back at me relentlessly. I heard Nate's distant voice, questioning me, asking me if I was okay, why I wasn't moving. When he saw the note on my desk, he cursed and asked me if I wanted him to say.

I shook my head, promised him I'd still meet him later and, finally, he left. By then, it was just me and Professor Souza left in the classroom.

For a few moments, we just stared at each other. I remained slouched in my chair, hands wringing together as I sat under the clemency of his hard, jade gaze. And he just stood there, leaning against the back of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. I wanted so desperately for him to say something. Anything. At this point, him yelling at me would be more welcome than the disapproving silence he showered me in.

"When you turned in your final on Friday, how did you honestly think you did?" He finally asked, voice low, tone tight. I had to take a deep breath before I answered, untrusting of my stutter surfacing under my anxiety.

"I-I thought I did great. My head wasn't really all here that morning but, when I finished, I thought th-that maybe I'd get the highest score I've gotten since starting the class."

And that was the honest answer. Professor Souza studied me for another few minutes and I noticed for the first time that I was physically shaking.

"I don't get it, Chloe." He rumbled quite harshly. He reached behind him and plucked a small packet from his desk, then straightened and slowly made his way over to me.

"You spent nearly two months working through hours and hours of extra study. I provide you with study guides, additional packets and personal assistance which require my own time and attention. You gradually build up your grade, getting higher scores with each test and yet-"

Professor Souza paused, stopping a couple feet away from my desk, eyes flashing as he loomed over me despite the distinct distance between us. He held out my test. It was too far for me to reach from where I sat and I knew he had done that on purpose. He wanted me to face him head on. He wanted me to stand there in front of him as he lectured me on being such a failure.

"And yet," He said again, quietly. "This is what you give me."

With a shaky breath, I stood from my seat and stepped in front of my desk. Refusing to break eye contact, I gingerly grabbed for my test and Professor Souza let it go, dropping his arm to his side. When he impatiently urged me to look at my score with a jerk of his chin, I finally did.

When my eyes landed on the red number posted on the top of my final, however, I had to snap my eyes up to the name box to make sure that there was no mistake of it being my test.

It was.

"If this is the score you were going to give me this whole time, Chloe, then I don't see the point as to what we've been doing here since your study sessions started. If this is what you've come up with after everything you've been through this entire term, then I'm afraid that you've just been wasting your time and mine."

I blinked, unable to believe what I was seeing. It didn't change. I blinked again and, when I found the same number there, taunting me, I released a choked laugh.

"A 98?" I breathed, looking up to meet Professor Souza's eyes again, finding them alight with mirth, amusement and even a bit snarky. He was smiling now. Broader and a little more lively than the small, crooked grins of his that I loved so much. His entire face lit up and I couldn't tell what seemed the most unbelievable. The smile on his face or the red 98 on my test.

"Why the hell did you undergo all that extra time in study hall if you were more than capable of this score the entire time, Chloe?"

I looked down at the test in my hands once more, the shock ebbing as my own smile spread across my face. I'd only missed one question and that provided me with the best score since starting the class. Whether Professor Souza thought I was capable of getting this score on my own or not, his tutelage had helped me progress and get this far.

Without really thinking about it, I released a strange mixture of a sound somewhere between a squeal and a laugh and flung my arms around Professor Souza's shoulders. My chest hit his and he uttered a surprised 'Oomph' as his arms instantly constricting around my torso to catch me. It did my nerve good once I came to the realization of what I had just done that he only gave a soft chortle in response. His arms slacked a little, but his fingers never left my waist.

I didn't need any more proof than that that Simon was right about his brother.

I'd accepted Professor Souza's offer to help improve my math, definitely. But that wasn't the only reason. I had also endured brain crippling study sessions in order to get to know Derek as well. And I had. Rather well, in fact. He'd allowed me to get him to open up and didn't stop me when I had done the same. He'd come to visit me at the diner, taken care of me when I was being hounded by Liam and suffering from a hangover, protected me against his creep nemesis, Professor Banks and even went as far as to go the extra mile to show me as I made improvement on my education.

Would he have done all of that, that giant act like he was disappointed in me for not working to my full potential in the first place, for someone else?

I doubted it.

All this time, though there were the few occasions where I could distinguish him as acting more himself than as my teacher, I'd thought of him as just that. Professor Souza, my teacher. But that's not who he was nor what he has been for a very long time.

He's been Derek. This whole time. And, this whole time, whether he's been trying regardless of whether it was wrong or not, Derek had been taking action.

Now, it was my turn.

I pulled back from Derek just enough to meet his puzzled jade eyes one last time. He was still beaming, but his brows were knit, still surprised and confused that I had nearly tackled him to the ground in my forceful hug. He must have noticed something in my expression though, for his smile fell slightly and his lips pursed as if he were going to ask me something. Only, I didn't let him.

Instead, I leaned in and kissed him, occupying his lips with my own.